


(The Danger Is) I'm Dangerous

by xSUPERGIRLx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Cooks, Darcy Lewis Feels, Darcy Lewis is Natasha Romanov's Daughter, Darcy is AWESOME, Darcy-centric, Evil, Extremis, Feels!, HYDRA are assholes, Mentions of Suicide, Red Room, Suicidal Thoughts, chapter 4 is a song fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2392301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSUPERGIRLx/pseuds/xSUPERGIRLx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Darcy-Centric drabbles. I accept prompts, but may not do all of them :)</p><p>*New home for "Darcy Don't Burn Chicken" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"* :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darcy Don't Burn Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy cooks for the Avengers.

"JARVIS, could you pretty please let all occupants know that I request for them to come help set up for dinner? That includes Tony." Darcy asked sweetly, addressing the ceiling for lack of a better place to look.

"Of course Miss Lewis, one moment." The AI paused, then said, "I have informed all residents and they will arrive in the next half an hour."

"You're the best Jarv." Darcy grinned.

"Thank you Miss Lewis." He replied, sounding modest. Or as modest as an Artificial Intelligence could sound.

Darcy hummed to herself as she pulled her rather large recipe book from one of the shelves. The book was old and slightly tattered, looking out of place in the futuristic kitchen. Tony had offered to have the book scanned for her, but Darcy had refused. 

The book was full of recipes from both sides of her family, from old traditional meals to newer ones as time had passed, and the book was passed with it. Her Nona on her fathers side had given her the book, already partially filled with recipes from when she had lived in Italy with the rest of her family, until Nona Lewis had come from the old country to America, bringing the recipes with her. 

As the book was so large, there had been plenty of room to add in recipes from her Bubba on her mothers side. Her Bubba had been more than happy to tell her the many Jewish recipes she knew. 

Darcy loved to cook. She wasn't sure if it was her Italian heritage or Jewish upbringing that made it so, or just Darcy herself, but it was true. And living with the Avengers had allowed her to cook large meals more often than not for dinners, which she had made a rule that everyone was expected to attend.

Darcy sighed and stretched her arms, snagging her apron from one of the cupboards and attempting to tie it on one-handed while flipping open the recipe book with the other. She soon conceded to defeat and used both hands to tie the strings at the back. She then resumed flicking past pages of desserts and snacks and into the large-scale-meal crowd pleasers. 

She finally settled on a recipe, and her eyes skimmed the list of ingredients she'd need as she scraped her dark brown curls up into a high ponytail. 

She turned and was heading for where the spices and such were kept when she noticed the Spy Twins (Tony's joint nickname for Clint and Natasha) sitting at the counter behind her.

"Oh, hey guys." She said warmly, sending them a half-grin as she gathered ingredients in her arms. 

"Hey Darce." Clint replied, smirking as she fought to not drop anything.

"Here." Tasha said gently as she took some items from Darcy's arms. 

"Thanks Tash." Darcy said, and placed the various containers on the countertop haphazardly beside Natasha's neat stack. She blew a piece of hair out of her eyes and Tasha tucked it behind her ear for her. Darcy smiled gratefully.

"So, what brings my two favourite assassins to my kingdom?" Darcy teased as she set about mixing things together, and preheating the range-top and oven.

"What about me? I'm hurt, Darce." Bucky said, clutching his chest mockingly in a heartbroken facade. 

"Nope, you're not my favourite." She shook her head.

"What's he done now?" Asked Steve, sliding onto a stool beside Clint, Bucky taking the last one beside Natasha.

"He," Darcy pointed over her shoulder dramatically,"ate the last of my strawberry poptarts!" 

"Aw, Darcy-Lou, don't be like that. You know you love me really." Bucky told her, catching her hand and pressing it to his heart as she walked past him to the fridge.

"Nope, no love for you. You've been replaced as my favourite assassin and as my favourite Man Out of Time."

"What?!" Bucky exclaimed in mock-outrage.

"Yup." She told him, pulling out four packs of chicken fillets and a carton of eggs. "Clint and Nat for assassins, and Stevie Wonderboy for Man outta time." 

"Stevie Wonderboy?" Asked Steve.

"You know you love it." She said cheekily as she battered the fillets, placing them on a large tray. 

"Sure." He laughed.

"I feel neglected!" Bucky cried. Clint punched him jokingly on the arm and winced in pain for his trouble. Punching a metal arm, even gently, hurts, she guessed.

"I don't. I like being Darce's fave. She lets me crash on her couch when Tash is mad at me." Clint grinned. Tasha rolled her eyes, but the annoyance was nullified by the fondness in her expression.

"And you're lucky I do." Darcy sassed back at him, popping the first few pieces of chicken in the pan with a sizzling crackle. 

"I smell Darcy's Fried Chicken!" Tony declared as he walked into the kitchen with Bruce and Pepper in tow.

"Why is it you only make it when Thor isn't here?" Bruce asked.

"Because he never leaves any for anyone else at group dinners. That's why I make it for him and Jane on their floor whenever they come back from an Asgard trip. Less hassle than making enough for a small army at dinner times. Bruce," she added, "could you be a fabulous person and make a salad? I got some fresh cucumbers this morning, they're still in the fridge. And there lettuce, tomatoes and carrots too."

"Sure Darcy." He said, following her instruction. Darcy smiled and then said, "Steve, be a dear and drag Bucky and Tony to set the table with you? Also, Clint, Tash, it's your turn to do dishes tonight."

"What?! Nuh-uh!" Clint said indignantly.

"Uh, yeah genius, look at the roster." Natasha sighed impatiently at her partners protests.

"No, it's-" Tasha grabbed his chin and forced his head to turn around and look at the sheet of paper under a fridge magnet. 

"Oh." 

"Yup." Tasha flicked his ear.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Could someone help me take the trays out to the table?" Darcy called into the dining room where everyone had migrated after Darcy had shooed them all out as the kitchen was so crowded.

"I will!" Tony cried, jumping up and knocking over a (thankfully yet-to-be-filled) glass.

"Tony, sit. I'll help." Pepper called back.

"That was an uncharacteristic attempt at being helpful, Tony. What's wrong?" Asked Steve while Bruce nodded.

"Nothing!" Tony exclaimed unconvincingly.

"So it had nothing to do with getting first serve of chicken?" Bruce asked.

"No..."

"Bullshit. I call bullshit." Bucky said, balancing expertly on two chair legs, then slamming back down with a thud as Darcy knocked him down with her hip as she passed.

"Aw, why'd ya do that, doll?" Bucky asked her, eyes tracking her around the table.

"Because," she said, sliding into her chair beside him, "that's how you break furniture."

"For the money Stark paid, I'd hope they'd last better."

"Just leave it, Buck." Steve sighed.

~*~*~*~*~

"Hey, Darce, how is it that you never burn this when you make it?" Steve asked.

"Because," She paused as everyone turned towards her, "Darcy don't burn chicken."

Everyone apart from the two super soldiers laughed.

"What? How is that so funny?" Bucky asked. "Steve?!"

"I don't know!" Steve cried. 

Everyone just laughed harder.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "don't burn chicken" line is from the movie 'The Help'. It's fab, and educational! WIN! Go watch it!
> 
> Like it? Hate it? Let me know.
> 
> I love prompts! Make my day!


	2. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, what if Darcy got Extremis too?

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him curiously. Then she looked back down at her hand, and raised it so he could see the skin begin to glow orange with power. She watched his face as he looked at the small cracks forming across her flesh from the heat of the liquid fire in her veins. Darcy was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her skin now, and she saw the fear in his eyes. 

"Scared?" Darcy whispered. "Good. Now you know how I felt when you did this to me. When you took those syringes and put that serum in me. Do you know how much it burned?" 

The corrupt doctor leaned away slightly as the heat intensified. 

"Did you hear my screams, even though you'd left the room. Are you proud of the pain you caused me?" Darcy asked, anger and malice raising it's ugly head, clouding her judgement and silencing the voice at the back of Darcy's mind telling her to stop, that this wasn't her.

"It burnt, Doctor. I was in agony. I didn't know if I would survive." She narrowed her eyes, and a frightening grin slid onto her face as she said, "Let's see how much heat you can take."

"No, please! Stop, I'm sorry! No!"

"No?" Darcy snapped harshly, her mind flitting back to when it had been her begging for mercy, in this very room, and he had ignored her. But before she could burn him, another voice said firmly, "No. Darcy, stop it."

"Why should I?"

"Because you're better than that." James told her from the doorway.

"He tortured me. I'm an experiment. He's no better than HYDRA, and if you can get your revenge, I can have mine!" She growled, turning to look at him, letting the fire fill her eyes.

"Well, I wasn't exactly innocent. And trust me Doll, you don't want to do this. You can't take it back." He warned.

Darcy looked at him, then at the Doctor. 

She looked at her own hands, looked at the fire that filled them.

"Don't let yourself become the monster they tried to make you." James said gently. 

"That's what I said..." She whispered softly, remembering when she had helped him after one of his guilt-filled episodes, when he's broken down. He'd asked her what he could do, and she had told him those words.

"What have I become?" She whispered, and suddenly everything hit her. 

Her eyes welled with tears, and her skin slowly faded back to it's normal porcelain hue. 

She looked back up at him. 

"Bucky" she whimpered, holding her arms out to him.

"C'mere Doll, I've got you." He said, gathering her into his arms.

"Take me home." She sobbed. 

"It'll be okay. It'll be okay." He told her, rocking her as she cried.

But the unspoken truth that it wouldn't be okay hung heavy in the air, and this was only the first of many trials to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Hate it? Let me know.
> 
> I love prompts! Make my day!


	3. The Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Darcy was Natasha's daughter and held by the Red Room?

They found her in an abandoned lab. 

She had an adamantium cuff around her ankle, a long chain connecting it to the damp cement wall.

She was covered in dirt and dust, only the ragged remains of a nightgown clothing her. Her hair was long and dark brown like- Natasha's breath caught.

Like her fathers. Natasha knew this girl. She knew her back when Natasha was Natalia. Back when Natalia had Yasha, her Winter Soldier, and what they had was as close to love as they could ever hope to be.

She didn't know where Yasha was now. 

The girl looked up as Steve broke the lock on the thick glass door. A door for observation, Natasha noted.

When the girl looked up, her familiar eyes locked onto Natasha's green ones. Hers were a mixture of Natalia's green and Yasha's blue. 

The girls head tilted to the side, studying Natasha. She smiled sadly, a small quirk of the lips at the edges. But it was an acknowledgement. Maybe the hadn't broken her completely. 

"мотхер," she whispered in a voice that didn't sound like it had had enough use. "у вас вернуться для вашей дочери, наконец?"

"What did she say?" Steve asked. "Nat? What did she say?" He repeated when Natasha didn't respond.

Clint cleared his throat. "She said... She said mother, and then she asked if she'd come back for... Something. My Russian's a bit rough."

"дочь," Natasha croaked out, voice shaking. She coughed. "Daughter. She asked if I had come back for my daughter at last."

"Nat?" Clint asked, as he and Steve turned to look at her.

"Many years after I joined the Red Room, and they... Changed me, there was a man I worked with for a time. I called him Yasha, because he didn't know his name, he was simply 'The Asset'. You know him by the Winter Soldier now." Steve breathed in sharply, but Natasha kept talking, Natalia's memories playing almost in front of her eyes. "We fell in love, or as much as was possible. Then I became pregnant. He was put back into stasis, and I carried my baby to term," Natasha paused, looking away from the men listening to get story attentively, back to the girl. To her daughter.

"They told me she died at birth." She finished in a flat tone, trying hard to contain her grief. What had she done? How could she have let them push the same fate as hers onto her child? Only her daughters fate was so much worse.

"You didn't know. Don't blame yourself-" 

Natasha cut Steve off, "But I should have! I let this happen! I lost Yasha and they told me I lost my child and I grieved, never once questioning them. And I should have," she said harshly, "Why have just one Black Widow when you could have the Red Rooms' two best Assets combined?" She finished, her anger giving way to despair.

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout,  
Down came the rain and washed the spider out,  
But out came the sunshine and dried up all the rain,  
And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again..." sang the girl in a broken voice. And the sheer sadness and pain she poured into the tune broke Natasha's heart. Steve and Clint looked pained.

"Oh Darya, what have they done to you?" whispered Natasha.

Darya looked at them, then flinched as though slapped across the face, and gripped her temples with both hands, crying out in pain. Het body visibly shook.

"нет," she whimpered, "снова не стул. Пожалуйста, нет!" She switched suddenly to English. "I'll be good, just please not again. I don't- I can't- I..." 

Natasha turned away, unable to stomach the pain her daughter was in. She buried her face in Clint's shoulder, his arms wrapping around her. 

And for the first time in decades, so long ago that Natasha couldn't remember the last time, the Black Widow drew in a shuddering breath and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Hate it? Leave a comment!
> 
> I love prompts! Make my day! :)


	4. Led By A Beating Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a darker theme to this one. Suicidal and slight sexual abuse triggers, as well as anxiety.

It's been a long time coming, and let's be honest, it's not exactly shocking. After everything, and looking back on it all, Darcy is surprised she carried on this long.

...Walking out into the dark   
Cutting out a different path   
Lead by your beating heart...

Natasha says she has a face incapable of hiding anything, but not even Natasha had picked up on this. But isn't that the way of it? On the outside you're fine, but in the inside you're screaming, wanting someone to notice, but they never do, and all of it just festers even more.

...All the people of the town,  
Cast theirs eyes down to the ground,  
In matters of the heart...

Darcy let out a long breath, which briefly made a cloud of steam before dissipating into the night. It was cold out here, on the balcony. Tony always complained, said he'd make something to warm it up, but he was drunk, so he'd forgotten. 

Darcy glanced down. From up here on the balcony, if you looked straight down, you could look down the length of the tower. 

She looked back, behind her into the living area of the penthouse. She could see through the large picture window. It was full of the team, and Jane and Pepper. They were all laughing at something Clint had said. They hadn't even noticed that she'd left.

...The night was all you had,  
You ran into the night from all you had, found yourself a path upon the ground, you ran into the night, you can't be found...

What was she doing here? She didn't belong with these people. She hadn't belonged back home, she hadn't belonged at Culver, or New Mexico, and she'd tried so hard to make herself fit this time. But it's hard to fit into a jigsaw when your piece isn't part of the picture. 

...But this is your heart,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?  
Pumps through your veins,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?...

She looked back down at the street, leaning dangerously over the railing now, it wouldn't take much for her to fall. 

Darcy just felt so lost and alone. Always so alone. She'd never had many friends, and when puberty hit and she got a lot of unwanted attention, it got worse. Men, young and old, trying their luck, again and again. It did nothing to deter them, but discouraged friends even more. 

...Summer evening breezes blew,  
Drawing voices deep from you,  
Led by a beating heart,  
What a year and what a night,  
What terrifying final sight,  
Put out your beating heart?...

Darcy felt tears prick her eyes. It wasn't fair! Why her? Why was it that everyone but her got their happy lives, and she was out here, contemplating taking the shortcut to the street?! 

And who would miss her? Who? Jane? No, she could get a new assistant. Thor? He'd live far longer than she ever would have, he wouldn't care. The team? They had each other, and she wasn't important. 

Darcy drew a shuddering breath in, and watched the city, constantly full of motion and life, carry on. The city would continue to buzz with life, the world would continue to spin. The stars would still shine, and in the morning, the sun would still rise. Life would go on, and whether she died tonight wouldn't affect that. 

...The night was all you had,  
You ran into the night from all you had, Found yourself a path upon the ground, You ran into the night; you can't be found...

She breathed in deeply, trying to stop the tears from falling, but it was no use, as a few spilled over onto her cheeks, making warm tracks down her cold cheeks. She clutched at the ends of her hair in anger and frustration. Anger at the world, anger at her lot in life, and anger at herself. She was weak. She'd let herself become this, let herself grow into this fake, miserable person. 

...But, This is your heart,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?   
Pumps through your veins  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?...

Darcy went up on her toes, because maybe if she lent over enough, she'd fall, and this would all be over... But as she was leaning in such precarious way that just a little push with her toes, -and bye-bye Darcy- she heard the door to inside slide open and Peppers' soft voice floated towards her, 

...If you had your gun would you shoot it at the sky, why?   
To see where it would fall, will you come down at all?...

"Darcy?" She called gently, "What are you doing out here by yourself?" Darcy could see them all looking curiously at her through the window.

"Nothing," Darcy said quickly, leaning back where it was safer. "Just looking at the city."

"You should be careful leaning, it's not safe." Pepper answered in the same gentle tone.

That was the point... Darcy thought to herself, but didn't dare say it aloud. She wasn't a child.

...If you had your gun would you shoot it at the sky, why?   
To see where your bullet would fall, will you come down at all?...

"Come inside Darcy. We missed you." 

Darcy arched a disbelieving brow. Why would they miss her?

"Oh? Why? Need the assistant to clean up a mess?" Darcy asked in a slightly biting tone.

"No..." Pepper looked at her oddly. The others (or at least the ones with super-hearing) looked slightly taken-aback too. "We just wanted our friend with us. Come inside."

Darcy doubted it. She wasn't important, why should they miss her?

...This is your heart,   
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?  
Pumps through your veins,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?...

Darcy walked towards the door, plastering a bright smile on her face as she left the shadows. 

But just before she stepped into the penthouse, she glanced back at the balcony one last time.

 

...This is your racing heart,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?   
Pumps through your veins,  
Can you feel it? Can you feel it?...

Not tonight.

She wouldn't die tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very dark chapter, and is kind of personal for me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post it, actually. But, here we are.
> 
> ____________________________
> 
>  
> 
> Like it? Hate it? Let me know it the comments!
> 
> I love prompts! Make my day!

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Hate it? Let me know.
> 
> I love prompts! Make my day!


End file.
